


forgive me the confusion

by laskaris



Series: or else a love with intuition [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anxiety, Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), FFXIV Write 2020, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26388865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laskaris/pseuds/laskaris
Summary: Narin Mol tries not to think about what he wants more than anything.He does, anyway.(He is absolutely not helped by G'raha Tia being a Menace.)(for FFXIV Write 2020 day 9, "lush". Missing scene for need not to need, probably between chapters 6 and 7.)
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: or else a love with intuition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917886
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	forgive me the confusion

Narin notices, even while trying not to notice, just how beautiful G'raha Tia is, all lean, wiry muscle beneath a deceptively slight body, tries not to think about the slender curves of his hips or how _perfectly_ he could wrap his hands around the Seeker's slim waist. Tries not to think about his lush lips, mouth like a flower in full bloom, or the way he bites his lower lip when he's concentrating on some difficult intellectual puzzle or a question that's caught his attention, _entirely_ different than when he's biting his lower lip when he's trying to flirt, deliberate and coy. Tries not to think about the way he smiles, challenging but never quite reaching his eyes, and his far rarer genuine smiles, when someone manages to coax the gentle vulnerability underneath aloof bravado from him, or the way he turns his head into an affectionate touch, soaking it up like it was sunshine. 

_(Tries not to think about what he wants, more than anything, but does, anyway-)_

He _especially_ can't help but notice, though he'd really rather not think about it too much (and does, anyway, with anxiety static high in the back of his head), just how _nice_ G'raha's ass is, pretty and pert and perfectly suited to his petite frame. There's no way to ignore that fact, between G'raha's usual tight pants, his penchant for dramatically walking away _(did he really need to sway his hips like that when he did? Narin isn't an expert in dramatic walking away, by any means, so he doesn't know)_ , and his apparent _new_ penchant for sitting in Narin's lap while he reads to him or simply _explains_ some facet of Allagan history. 

And right now Narin definitely _can't_ ignore that fact, even as he tries to focus more on the sound of G'raha's crystal-sweet voice as he reads to him, or the familiar sound of rain against the tent. Not with the little scholar perched in his lap, pretty legs almost entirely bare, only wearing an oversized white shirt that only _barely_ comes down to the tops of his thighs and is sliding down to reveal the pale curve of one slender, lean shoulder and his skin still damp from the surprise rainstorm. Where had G'raha even _gotten_ that?

"W-what are you _wearing?"_ Narin manages _not_ to squeak. 

"I thought it obvious," G'raha says, looking up from the book that he almost certainly has memorized, tail swishing arrogantly. "I don't want to get any _more_ of my clothing wet until I dry off, but I would _also_ prefer that you be able to breathe, so I compromised and put this on." 

Narin _immediately_ chokes at the mental image of G'raha sitting in his lap _naked (and his breath catches in his throat at how much he wants this). "_ R-right," he says, when he manages to find his ability to breathe again. "Where did you even get that?" 

"I stole it from a man I slept with back in Sharlayan," the little scholar says. "Call it recompense, or spite, because he was memorable in a _bad_ way." 

"...a bad way?" Narin asks, cautiously. G'raha shrugs. 

"Selfish and uncaring." he says. "I was too sore to walk very much the next day, I didn't find my pleasure, and all I really got from it was taking his favorite shirt."

"I see," Narin says, and frowns., just before G'raha shifts slightly, settling, and _gods_ , he both wants _and_ wants to be swallowed by the merciful earth so he doesn't have to, anymore. Gods, he can't even concentrate on the lesson anymore, anxiety static buzzing high in him, his heart pounding like a caged bird's wings in his chest. It would be so easy to just push up the hem of the shirt and just - _take_ what he wants. G'raha would be _so_ tight around his fingers spreading him open, filling him up, and even more tight around his cock. "I-" he says, and tries not to stammer, tries to keep his hands from tightening on G'raha's hips. 

It's a step forward that he manages not to _throw_ him, this time. Instead, Narin carefully sets the little scholar onto his cot and stands up, trying and failing to keep his mind from fixing on the fact that G'raha is _sitting on his bed_. "I'll be...right back." he says, trying not to sound strangled and only mostly failing. "I...need to step outside for some fresh air so I can...concentrate on the lesson. S-sorry," 

He sounds extremely stupid, Narin knows, as he flees for the lake and its blessed _cold_ water, but doesn't think about it. Manages to resist the urge to throw himself into the lake bodily, with all his clothes on, and instead manages to undress with shaking hands. Throws himself into the cold water, shivering as the even colder rain continues to fall, and takes himself in hand as he sinks further in, up to his neck in the water, and tries to stroke himself off as fast as he can. Tries not to think about and does, anyway, the recurring image of G'raha as he's starred in all the fantasies that he's had and would really rather _not_ have or think about, so beautiful in his pleasure. Soft and flushed and yielding with his head thrown back and lovely eyes closed, red hair unbound and spread around him, lush lips parted, taking everything he has to give him and more, so small and impossibly tight around him and-

 _(In these fantasies, Narin isn't gentle. Never gentle. Rough, more than rough, brutal, and in these fantasies, G'raha begs for more, for everything he can give him,_ please, don't hold back, please- _and he's briefly ashamed as he spills over his fingers, even as that voice in the back of his head that always speaks with his own voice layered with darkness whispers,_ you can have it, you know, just take what you want, _but louder still is the static of his anxiety, as it overwhelms him-)_


End file.
